Wicked Earl Seeks Proper Heiress (11 page)

After they’d finished, Beth suggested he take Hercules out into the garden, and the two women watched him from the window.

“He’s a lonely boy,” Averil said. “He seems very isolated. I wonder why he hasn’t been sent away to school?”

“Perhaps his father prefers him to be taught at home? And the isolation might come from Lord Southbrook’s position in society. Or out of it. I imagine it would be difficult for the boy to form suitable friendships when his father is not received.”

Averil knew Beth was right, but she felt sorry for Eustace, and apart from that she liked him. His pale, narrow face was enough like his father’s to make her wonder if Lord Southbrook had been very like this as a child. He still had those ridiculously long eyelashes, just like his son’s.

“It’s a pity I can’t do something to help,” she murmured thoughtfully to herself.

“Averil.” Beth’s voice sounded a warning. “Please don’t interfere. Lord Southbrook and his family are really nothing to do with you.”

“I know,” Averil replied, with a wry smile, “and I know I mustn’t interfere, but I feel as if there must be something I can do for Eustace.”

Beth shook her head. “Look what happened when you offered to help Doctor Simmons with his charity? Next thing you were roped in to all manner of activities, and he treats you as if you were a slave. You should be going out to parties and balls and picnics. You should be enjoying yourself, Averil.”

Averil hadn’t heard Beth hold forth quite that bluntly before. “You don’t like Gareth very much, do you, Beth?”

Her companion looked guilty. “I’m sorry. I know you hoped—”

But Averil was quick to reassure her. “I understand. Actually, I’m not quite as impressed with Gareth as I used to be, either. I know he does his best, and his heart is in the right place, but sometimes . . . well, I think he has things all wrong where the distressed women are concerned.”

“And then there was Hercules,” Beth said. “I know you felt compelled to save him from his cruel owner, but he is rather big for our small house. I’m in a constant flap, Averil, wondering what you will try to save next.”

Averil didn’t know what she could say to that, but it turned out she didn’t have to say anything, because just then the knocker rattled on the front door. A moment later the maid came in to let them know that the Honorable James Blainey was hoping for a word.

“Oh dear,” Beth sighed, “more of Lord Southbrook’s family, I presume? Should we receive him?”

Averil smiled. “He’s probably come for Eustace.”

“Then we should definitely receive him.”

Averil glanced out of the window at Eustace, his face flushed, his hair wild, romping with the dog. He looked completely happy. Beth was right, she was always trying to save things. And people. Perhaps it had something to do with her mother abandoning her when she was a child. But if she could ease Eustace of some of his loneliness then she would. And if she could help his father back from the outer edges of society, then she’d do that, too.

T
he Tin Soldier was a different proposition by day. Grimy and dirty, paint peeling from the walls, and stinking of the night’s activities. The doors were firmly closed, but Rufus hammered on them until a sleepy-looking boy opened them.

“What you want, gov’ner?” he demanded. “We don’ open up till later.”

“I believe there’s a man called Jackson here,” Rufus said, placing his shoe in the gap between door and jamb to stop the boy closing it. “I need to see him.”

The boy’s eyes weren’t so sleepy now.

“I know he’s here,” Rufus said, and reaching into his pocket drew out some coins. “Let me in.”

The coins were gone in an instant and Rufus was standing in the room he remembered from several nights ago. For a moment, as he looked at the stairs, he could almost see Averil standing there, her fair hair tumbling down, her skirt torn and dirty, but her gray eyes clear and brave. Now that he thought of it, it was a brave thing to do, going to The Tin Soldier. Even taking part in the Home for Distressed Women was courageous behavior for a proper young lady. Averil Martindale was a brave girl and he admired her for it.

Just as well she was brave, Rufus thought. Because if he did marry her she would need all her courage to live at Southbrook Castle with his madcap family.

The thought made him curl his lip at his own dishonorable behavior. Could he really inveigle a woman like Averil into marrying him? Why would she say yes? She didn’t strike him as the sort of person who would say yes to anything without a very good reason.

That made him feel a little better. He’d ask and she’d refuse and then he’d be less of a dishonorable cad.

“Lord Southbrook?”

It wasn’t Averil coming down the stairs, it was Sally Jakes. She looked neat and bright, not as if she’d been up most of the night running the gambling house.

“Sally. I’m sorry to barge in but I wanted to see Jackson.”

She seemed to stiffen, but her smile didn’t leave her mouth. “Jackson?”

“Yes, Sally, Jackson. We both know who I mean.”

She sighed. “What’s ’e been up to now?”

“I won’t know until I see him.”

Sally came down the rest of the stairs and, with a shrug, led him toward the nether regions of the building. They descended some stairs and it grew gloomier.

“I know ’e can be a slippery one,” she said conversationally, “but ’e’s useful. I use ’im for errands, other little jobs I ’ave. He knows the East End like the back of ’is ’and.”

“Jackson and I are old friends,” Rufus offered. “You don’t need to worry.”

Sally turned to look at him, and then shrugged again. At the bottom of the stairs she pointed to a door. “’E’s in there. Probably still asleep,” she added, and then left him to it.

Rufus opened the door without knocking. Jackson lay on a narrow bed, the covers over his head, one boot sticking out the bottom. Obviously he didn’t bother with such niceties as undressing for sleep. Rufus suspected that was because Jackson never knew when he might have to make a run for it.

Rufus leaned against the door to prevent that happening. There were no windows, so he thought he was safe enough. He cleared his throat. Loudly.

The bedclothes stirred, and then a head lifted and bleary eyes peered at him. The eyes widened and Jackson shot out of the bed like a bullet from a gun, and then promptly fell onto the floor as his boots caught in the covers.

“Lord Southbrook,” he said, his voice a squeak. “What a pleasure this is, sir.” He blinked. “You’re looking well.”

Jackson was one of the most ugly men Rufus had ever seen, but there was something about his ugliness that made you trust him. What you saw was what you got. Except it wasn’t. Jackson was also a slippery, lying manipulator and the thought of him having anything to do with Averil was intolerable.

“You were with Lady Averil Martindale the other night, weren’t you?”

Jackson licked his lips.

“Don’t try and lie. I saw you there. And I saw you run off when you saw me. You left her all alone, Jackson. You do realize that? A gently reared young lady all alone in the stews.”

Jackson shrugged. “I’m sorry. I went round the next day to say I was sorry, but her old biddy companion wouldn’t let me in. That night . . . I saw you and I panicked.”

Rufus waited a beat. “Why did you panic? I’m no longer a Guardian. And even when I was you didn’t do much to help me. You were more of a liability.”

Jackson managed to look hurt. “Don’t say that. I brought you some good information, sir. I risked life and limb for you.”

Rufus laughed. “Jackson, you would never risk anything for anyone. All you care about is Jackson. You panicked because you are up to mischief. Now, I’m warning you, stay away from Lady Averil.”

Jackson’s eyes narrowed. “I’m helping her with finding her sister.”

“No, you’re not. Not anymore. I’m helping her.”

After a moment of considering this, Jackson shrugged, but there was something sly in his face that made Rufus wonder if this was really the end of the matter.

“I hear you do some little jobs for Doctor Simmons, too. I hope you aren’t fleecing that gentleman, Jackson.”

“Nah, he pays the going rate. Now can I get back to sleep? If you’re finished with me, that is? I was up until the church clock struck five.”

There didn’t seem much point in staying any longer and Rufus left him to it. But as he walked back up the stairs the stirring of unease returned, a prickling that warned him something wasn’t right. Jackson and Sally, neither of them were to be trusted. There was something going on, and even though he was no longer a Guardian, Rufus knew he wouldn’t be happy until he found out what it was.

T
he Honorable James Blainey smiled at the two women, and Eustace, with Hercules at his side. “I say,” he said cheerily, “this is pleasant, isn’t it? No wonder Eustace came over to visit. Not,” he added, with a belated frown at the boy, “that he should have. His father won’t be pleased.”

“Then don’t tell him,” Eustace said practically.

“Well, I have to, Eustace. I’m in the bad books and anything I can do to get out of them, well, I have to do it. You understand.”

Eustace appeared sulky.

Averil smiled. James Blainey was a rogue but a polite and rather charming rogue, and although, from what she’d seen, he might have a gambling problem, there was no viciousness in him.

She turned to Beth, to ask if she would ring for more tea, and found her companion a little flustered. “Of course,” Beth said, rising to her feet. “Do you wish for more cake, as well?”

“Oh please, may we?” Eustace piped up.

“We rarely have cake at home,” James mused. “The housekeeper says she has enough to do, and besides, I’m too old for cake.”

He sounded so woebegone that Beth’s heart seemed to soften. Her smile was warmer than she probably realized. “Cake it shall be, sir.”

Averil looked away so that they wouldn’t see her surprise, and amusement. Was this practical Beth? Who’d just this moment been warning her about the perils of taking in more strays?

James was openly admiring Beth’s trim figure as she pulled the bell rope, his dark eyes full of warmth. “I was under the impression that Miss Harmon here was a dragon. Wasn’t that what you said, Eustace?”

“I said that Papa said she
wasn’t
a dragon,” Eustace replied through clenched teeth. “And it’s rude to repeat what I said in private, Uncle James.”

James was unabashed. “Oh, is that what you said? Well, I can certainly concur with that. Or if she is, then she’s a very attractive and delightful dragon,” he finished gallantly.

Beth sat down again and didn’t seem to know where to look.

“Are you staying in London long?” Averil asked, to move the conversation on to safer ground.

“I don’t know,” James said, and suddenly he was gloomy, all his smiles gone.

“Uncle James doesn’t like Southbrook Castle,” Eustace explained. “It’s situated in Lincolnshire, and the weather comes straight off the North Sea. The land is very flat so there’s nothing to stop it before it reaches the castle. Sometimes the shudders rattle so hard I’m sure they’re about to fly right off.”

James shuddered.

“Uncle James prefers London,” Eustace added, with a sympathetic smile.

“Well, I prefer London, too, so I can understand that,” Beth said brightly. “Do you like the opera, sir?”

James’s eyes widened. “Goodness, no. It’s the ballet for me. Have you seen the ballet, Miss Harmon?”

“The ballet!” Beth sighed.

Averil sat, bemused, as their conversation went on around her. At one point Eustace caught her eye and grinned, and she nodded toward the garden. It couldn’t hurt, she thought, as she led the boy and dog back outside, to leave Beth and James together. They were not children after all, and they did not need a chaperone.

“I
did
think Beth was a dragon,” Eustace said, watching Hercules prancing after the ball. “The way you spoke about her that night, when Papa carried you. You seemed frightened of her.”

“I was frightened of what she’d say to me,” Averil explained, “but she only scolds because she cares. I know that. Beth would never hurt anyone. She’s a-a marshmallow.”

Hercules returned, panting, and handed the ball over, covered in slobber. Eustace didn’t seem to mind. He threw it again. Averil thought that Hercules was going to sleep very well tonight.

“I had a nanny,” Eustace said after a moment. He wasn’t looking at her but there was something in his voice that made her watch him more closely. “Her name was Mrs. Slater. She used to pinch me if I did anything wrong, and then call me a crybaby if I cried. And she didn’t give me any food some nights, just took it for herself. She’d eat it in front of me, and I felt really, really hungry.”

Averil tried to be calm. She clenched her hands in her lap and sat still, when what she really wanted to do was to pull Eustace into her arms and hug him tight. But she didn’t think he would like that. He’d be embarrassed.

“She sounds like a horrible person,” she said bluntly. Was this why Eustace was in London with his father? Was this why he hadn’t been sent away to school like the other young sons of the quality?

Eustace looked up at her quickly. “She was. Horrible.” He seemed relieved to have her agreement, and Averil realized he’d been worried she’d tell him he was a crybaby, too.

“What happened to Mrs. Slater?” Averil said curiously.

“Uncle James noticed the bruises and told Papa, and Papa sent her away. I’d never seen them so angry.”

“I’m glad,” Averil said. “What a terrible thing to happen to you, Eustace. But I do think you were unlucky with Mrs. Slater. Most nannies are nice and love children. You’d have to be very unlucky to meet anyone like that again. And if you did, then you’d know to tell your father, wouldn’t you?”

Eustace agreed that he would. He seemed to brighten up at the thought that the Mrs. Slaters of this world were few and far between, and if he did encounter one then he knew what to do.

Averil watched him throw the ball again, laughing as Hercules leapt over a bush, but inside her blood was boiling. How could anyone be so cruel to a child? She would never understand it. No wonder Lord Southbrook kept his son close to him. She was growing to like the earl more and more.